


There and Back again

by Bilbows



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, lotr - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 05:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bilbows/pseuds/Bilbows
Summary: Bilbo Baggins chronicled his adventure with Thorin and CO. to reclaim a lost homeland, but it was years in the making. Before that, he kept a journal; a rough copy of what would later contribute to the beginnings of "There and Back again, A Hobbit's Tale". This is the journal detailing the beginning, middle, and end and after to his adventure.





	There and Back again

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write this! This will be a diary format of Bilbow detailing his day-to-day life, memories, and experiences that take place during the events of The Hobbit. Note that I will be using both Book and Movie (But mostly Movie) canon in order to fill in gaps that one may have left or vice versa. But of course, what kind of story would this be if I only rewrote the entirety of The Hobbit? Here you will also find events and "in-betweens"; many events, 'memories', characters and other things that I describe will be entirely my own invention, but shouldn't contradict the very base canon of what the films and books gave us. I will try to make things interesting but also non-contradictory and hope you enjoy this story as we go on another adventure with Bilbo. All warnings will be posted before each chapter!
> 
> WARNINGS: food mentions, smoking

**22 Astron, Third Age 2941 ( _April 22)_**

It is on this sunny afternoon that I, Bilbo Baggins, have decidedly purchased this journal under the insistence of one Lily Thornburrow. Miss Thornburrow is relentless, relentless! I may as well have snatched it without giving pay, as she was desperate enough to be rid of it, although I cannot understand why. But enough of all that!

I have placed my name very, very clearly in the darkest my ink would allow, to note the owner of this book. I think _some certain hobbits_ cannot keep their sticky paws off items that are not theirs if they cannot find a name stamped on it! I shall keep this as a document of my goings-on and business. My old mama Took enjoyed chronicling her own life in this way-- to later revisit memories she may have forgotten. Dreadfully forgetful she was, too! Supposed I’d do the same.

Today was calm. I visited my friend Lily Thornburrow, who was selling a great number of items in her yard. That was the time I had bought this book, you see. Miss Lily’s sister, Sage, has recently moved out and left a hoard of unwanted items in the Thornburrow hill.

Lily is a deal younger than I, although she remains my good friend. Miss Lily shall be 30 years on Midyear’s day. That is seventeen years in the Mannish count, I believe. She is as a niece to me, although I like to think I’m not very old, thank you very much! Tomorrow we are hunting for mushrooms, as she seems to find them much quicker than I, the lucky thing.

I retire to my front yard now, I believe a moment with pipeweed is in good order.

 

**23 Astron**

The morning business of mushroom-hunting was plentiful. Miss Lily cradled thrice as much as I, but I think her lengthy apron was to blame, considering she nestled the mushrooms in it. I, however, carried only what I could in my basket.

It isn’t the first time we’ve gone out for mushrooms together, but this time we’d traveled further than our usual route. Not quite as far as Frogmorton, but close. Near Bywater. Lily frequently insists it is the best place to hunt for mushrooms, and she was right. Although, we lot had an odd encounter today!

We stood in the grass gathering our plants, and it was near the end of our trip, but I couldn’t help but notice Lily stared in the distance many times. It bothered me, and so I asked what ailed her.

“Oh, it’s nothing Mister Bilbo! Only, there’s a giant man by the trees there, a giant, sir!”

I didn’t believe miss Lily at first and with a laugh, told her it was likely only a fleck of dust on her eyelash, seeing as there are no Men to be found in this area. What business would anyone save hobbits have here, anyway?

 But as I turned my head in the distance, I realized there was indeed somebody standing there! A very large man, cloaked in green, and gathering plants as we were. I saw him quickly snatch up foliage and stuff it into his bag, although he was so quick to the motion that I did not see. Lily found this very exciting, and tried to coax me into going to him, and saying hello.

Of course, I refused. No respectable hobbit goes meddling in affairs that aren’t his own, unlike some _certain relatives_ I know. And anyway, Lily’s grandmother would be displeased should she learn the youngest Thornburrow was out speaking with strange men. How meddlesome! How scandalous!

Lily had it in her mind that because of his largeness, the man was an elf, and spared no breath speaking of it. I must confess that I too, grew excited at this, and the idea of going to the stranger briefly intrigued me. I have never met an Elf before!

No matter, his largeness soon disappeared into the trees, and it gave me enough time to calm Miss Lily and convince her into staying right where her fluffy feet stood. She has been inconsolably chatty since then! I’ve told her not to speak of this to her grandmother Zinnia nor her four sisters _(Sage, Thistle, Holly, and Dahlia, they are named,)._ If she does, I worry it would cause a ruckus. No need for that, I’m a respectable hobbit, thank you!

I cannot stop thinking of the large man or what his business could have been. I wonder where he is from, where he is going, and why? What is his name? Has he traveled so very far, or only from Bree? I suppose I’ll never know, but if I dwell on it for too long it shall be a poke in my side.

That’s all for today. I sort my mushrooms, now!

 

**24 Astron**

Nothing to report today. I write by light of my warm hearth, a mug of cider by my side. The sun has just gone down by now. I have noticed no ruckus, and this calms me. Tomorrow shall be another peaceful day, I think.

 

**25 Astron**

I woke up quite early this morning, much earlier than I am accustomed. No matter, I awoke with a sudden taste for fish. I think I’ll visit the market and purchase trout for dinner. In the meantime, I ought to get dressed and fix breakfast. Suppose I’ve woken early enough to smoke for longer this morning. Splendid, just splendid!

 

                I know I have already written in this journal today, but there are no rules against writing entries more than once a day, and what has just happened has baffled me so much that I cannot help but write it here! My hand shakes as I write this, and there are ink blots sitting on my paper-- I may need to skip a page for my next entry!

By some curious chance, as I was smoking this morning, I had gotten a visitor. Certainly, no one I was expecting. Why it was Gandalf! A wizard, at _my_ door!

Of course, I had no idea it was he, at first. Had I known he was causing and for what reason, I would have gone inside long before he stepped on my home’s trail and locked myself in! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared to do the same.

The grass was so green, and the morning so fine, when the stranger had appeared on my doorstep, I bid him good morning and—oh, you should have heard his response! “What do you mean, good morning?” he asked me, “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”

Good Morning means Good Morning, thank you very much!

In any case, I told him I meant it in all ways, and did the kindly thing and invited him to smoke with me. Certainly, I thought him something of an odd fellow at first, but one I thought could partake in my peace. This is not what the wizard had in mind, however! Instead of accepting my offer, Gandalf said to me that he was looking for a fellow adventurer. I gave him my answer _(no adventurers to be found here, thank you! I suggested he look somewhere else.)_ but to no avail. He would not leave.

I bid him good morning many times, hoping he’d leave, but indeed he didn’t. That was when I discovered his identity you see—I very faintly remember Gandalf as a distant figure in my youth. Far and remote, existing only as a memory of fireworks and magic. A good memory perhaps, but best as a memory only, for this was the Gandalf responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. A true disturber of the peace!

He continued to insist I join him on this adventure, but no, I shan’t! I became so flustered by such a strange meeting that I invited him to tea, _(oh, why would I do that?)_ This has all just happened very recently, and I think some tea or cake will be nice to calm my nerves. I suppose I should expect the wizard by tomorrow for tea, and hopefully, he will have forgotten about this ‘adventure’ of his. I must go now, I think I have heard scratching at my door. I think it is birds building a nest on the cill again, or perhaps mice. I must go!

 

**25 Astron**

I have been so nervous since the odd occurrence the other day! I very rudely forgot to say hello to Miss Lily at the sight of her, the poor dear! I had even forgotten about buying my fish. No matter, I’ll do it this afternoon. My garden is watered, and the house is tidy. I’ll tend to my afternoon chores as soon as I’ve filled my belly. I ran into Master Worrywart selling tubers just yesterday—perhaps I’ll buy some for dinner.

 

                I see it is becoming a habit now, but another ordeal has come unto me.

 

There are dwarves in my house. Two of them. One dark haired, and the other much older and white-haired. I’ve learned they are brothers. I haven’t the slightest idea of what’s going on, but I have every intention of finding out!

 

                Am I dreaming? I must be, and yet I don’t feel as though I’m dreaming. Two more dwarves have come. Another set of brothers. Young ones too, can’t be much older ( _in their own aging ways,)_ than Miss Lily. Apparently, they’re here for dinner.

 

_Later Evening_

 

                Thirteen. Thirteen! Thirteen dwarves and a wizard in my home. I can hardly grasp what has happened at all, but my cupboards are empty, my house is untidy, and the lot of them currently sit at my table. I’m surprised they’ve managed to fit everyone in at all. I must go, I’m being beckoned by the wizard.

 

_Much Later_

                I confess I am much calmer than as described previously. At this moment, the dwarves are singing.

My hobbit hole feels… alive. The walls shake with their baritone voices joined in song, and I’ve felt lightning run down my spine more than once. They have a gift for music, I must say. I must say something else as well.

Gandalf indeed wishes me to go on an adventure. They _(meaning Gandalf, and the company of Dwarves, that is)_ have explained everything to me thusly;

                The leader of this company, Thorin I believe, is a dwarven Prince, and two of the others his nephews. This lot is looking to reconquer their homeland far to the Northeast. A dragon is to be involved. My hand shakes again, just thinking about it!

They wish _me_ to travel with them as a “burglar”. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life! I may not be the best hobbit, but I like to think I’m an honest, respectable one! This company has a contract for me presently, should I decide to go with them. The scroll waits for me—I can almost smell the paper from my room, with how desperately they wish me to sign it, though I’ve decided not to leave Hobbiton.

After all, how could I?

Adventures are unorganized, sloppy! Anything could happen! There’s nothing but traveling and missing regularly scheduled meals. The weather must be horrible too. Oh, how could I ever leave here?

And yet,

As I sit here by the fire, Dwarven song in my ears, I remember I have always wished to see the great Mountains. I have only ever heard of them in books and illustrations there. “The world is not in your books,” Gandalf said to me.

I have looked outside. From the window I can see the stars are alight in the dark, overhead the trees—perhaps there are giant trees in the world, as well? There is so much I haven’t seen! Will I ever?

I shudder. Someone has fed the fire in the other room, and I’ve broken out of my thoughts for now. No, I’ll stay here. I am a Baggins of Bag End, and we do not go lolling around places we shouldn’t be.

I’m tired.


End file.
